Crashed
by wn2411
Summary: Their lips crash together like waves upon the rocky shore. Brutal. Painful. Honest. Twopart Oneshot.
1. Part One: Reconciliation

Part One: Reconciliation Their lips crash together like waves upon the rocky shore. Brutal. Painful. Honest. Their hands are roaming everywhere; lips, caressing everywhere, tears, trailing everywhere. He never did expect her to forgive him. James never did expect Lily to take him back, but now she is in his arms again, in the middle of Hogwarts' Quidditch field, in this godforsaken thunderstorm. She is his once more, regardless of his past mistakes. They are together, in the here and now, and that is all that matters. "James…" Lily whispers as she bites her lip, holding back a moan, at the touch of his lips on her neck. She grips him closer, pairing up her body to his. Face to face, chest to chest, hips to hips. They were always good together. They always had that chemistry, that particular chemistry that everyone else looks for but hardly ever finds, and that chemistry between them has lain dormant for far too long. Raindrops pound on them, like tiny, biting grenades, splashing on their skin upon contact. The rain drips down their faces and melts their tears together, creating slightly salty rivulets that mingle with their sweat and passion. It flows into the tiny crevices of their bodies, between their heat-flushed chests and arms and lips. It is beautiful. This is beautiful. And this is tragic. Who knew that they would rekindle everything here, where it started all those many years ago… He had hurt her, and she had broke. He had hurt her in the most cruel, unforgivable way, and she had died a little bit. All his years of pursuit had culminated in a wandering of interest, or so implied by his actions, and she swore she would never ever forgive him. She never did take herself seriously. Was it all for giggles, she wondered? Did he chase her because he wanted her? Or did he chase her just to prove he could have her? She felt like she was a prize, a token of the chase, the chase of the decade; she was the treasure chest on the ship. The ship he sank. Their first few months together were beautiful, so passionate and so unrestrained. They wanted each other, and neither would settle for anything less. It was all or nothing, and they both wanted it all. But then, something gave, she was not sure what, but something certainly gave, and led to that fateful night. That fateful night in the broom closet, with James and the school harlot, shagging like bunnies. Forget that there was a party that night, forget that he had consumed a bottle of firewhiskey, forget that they had their biggest argument earlier that afternoon—he was caught, caught like none other, by his own pretty princess. A scream. A cry. A thrown bottle of solvent, and a shuffle and crash of broomsticks. It was over in less than a minute, and two hearts were broken. How could he? And with another redhead. How could he replace her when she wasn't even gone? Arguments were arguments, but she was sure that what they had transcended petty yelling and slammed doors. It was nothing that good make-up sex could not solve. She was looking for him to apologize anyway; he should have known that. He should have known that she did not mean all those harsh words she threw, and he should have known that she had so much more to offer to him than her, that other girl. So why did he look for it elsewhere? She felt like a lie. She felt like everything they shared was a lie. Those nights in the Astronomy Tower, where he told her stories of his childhood in Wales. Lies. Those midnight swims in the Great Lake. Lies. Those tender kisses at sunrise, that morning he dragged her out of her bed, and they smuggled themselves out under the invisibility cloak to the nearby cliff. Lies. Lies, lies, lies. She did not believe anymore, and so it ended. As tumultuous as it began, it ended. She left Hogwarts broken and worn, pulled down by love, or whatever it was. Lily was not one to compromise herself or her happiness. So now she is not willing to compromise again. After all these years, she still knows that James is the best she has ever had, and she knows that being with James is right, even though it feels so wrong. She had other lovers since James, but they have only been sub par. No one lived up to the precedents set by James-bloody-Potter, no matter how badly he had broken her heart. No, she is not willing to compromise her happiness again. She has to be with James, even if it means looking past his mistakes and swallowing her own pride. She is convinced that she must be with James, that being with James feels so wrong because it is so right, and that sometimes, wrong is the best way to live. They submerge themselves in the moment, savoring the taste of each other's skin, lips, neck, shoulders. It is passion. It is love. It is something indescribable, but so glorious at the same time. It glows. It makes them glow, with such energy that their bodies hummed together, in synchronization. They fit so well together—like two pieces of a goddamn puzzle, like a lock and key. She can taste his apology; those words unsaid after all those years. She can feel that he had broke too, after that night, and she can feel that he would die to have her back. She can feel everything he is thinking, and she knows that this is the epitome of synergy. She throws herself back at him, her emotions, and it feels so good. No holding back now, no restrictions—this is their last apology. This is their redemption. She wants him so bad. So fucking bad that it hurts. It hurts so much more than he had ever hurt her, and she does not care anymore. She needs him to breathe, to live, to see, to feel. She wants it. She wants him, because life without him is meaningless. Without James, life would be a monotony of Order assignments and reheated restaurant meals, nights in front of the T.V. and phone arguments with Petunia. Life before pales in comparison with what she could have now. Lily is addicted, and there is no twelve-step program to help her. She needs him now. Lily pulls away from his embrace, ignoring his groans of protest and her body aches for relief from the temporary loss. "Not here, not here. I promise, but not here. We can't," she whispers, not trusting her voice to make any vocally stable sounds. "C'mon, just…come with me. Please." There is an urgency in their pace as she leads him through the forest, rain still pelting her soaked crimson head. Their hands grasp each other in a tight embrace, afraid of letting go and getting lost. They had just found each other. No more risks, no more stupid moves. The game is finally over, and it is time to enjoy the victory. Lily steps over fallen logs and breaks into a run, whipping water droplets back at him and searching wildly for her old secret spot. Her old clearing of clearings, a soft bed of grass. After all these years, she still feels a connection to it, a nostalgic tie to the curtains of willow. She used to go there to think, about the confusions of magic when she was younger and about James during the last few years at Hogwarts. She had never shown anyone her secret hideout, not even her best friend, not even James at the zenith of their first relationship. She does not know why she is leading him here, but just that she must, just that this is the only place where she can truly have him and know for certain that he has her. This is their consummation. The forest is silent with anticipation. The rain is still falling, and branches whip across each other, but silence is deafening beyond all this movement. The world is waiting, because everything is off-course when James and Lily are apart. They belong to an exclusive club of Romeo and Juliet, Scarlett and Rhett, Catherine and Heathcliff, of love-born pairs unbound by the etches of time. Lily and James. Forever. The world is waiting to start again, to continue its course with Lily and James onboard as one, and it is worth the wait. James and Lily are worth waiting for. Lily pulls James to an abrupt stop before a curtain of branches and pushes through the low dangling willow whips. She reveals a small, secluded clearing under a dense circle of trees that stretch upward and tangle their branches together. It is dome of some sort, created by anything but man or wizard. It must be protected by magic because it is lined with soft, thick grass, grass of a completely different shade of green, and despite the storm, everything is dry, dry and inviting, like natural bedroom awaiting their arrival. James takes this opportunity to speak, breathless from running, and dizzy from love. He reaches forth and pulls Lily's arm, turning her around to face him. "Lily, please, I'm so sor—" "Not now, James." No. No apologies. Too late for apologies. She stares him down with an extreme intensity, an emerald fire pulsing from her eyes that tells him that she knows and that she wants more than words. Lily pulls him inside her circle, dismissing the closure of the branches with a wave of her hand, and presses her lips to his. Yes, all is right again. 


	2. Part Two: Consummation

Part Two: Consummation Lily, with her lips still attached to James', pushes him forward towards the center of the grassy circle. They are reborn in their very own Garden of Eden. They belong together, and they shall begin again, together. She wraps her arms around his neck and buries them in his soft, black hair, tugging gently with urgency and with passion. "Merlin, James, I've missed this…" she whispers in his ear, as she lavishes her lips down his neck and her fingers down his damp chest. "I've missed this so much." She gives a frustrated groan at the touch of his cotton t-shirt—of all the days to be in muggle wear! She tugs at the hem of his shirt, pulls it up savagely, violently, over his head, and tosses it behind him, to who-knows-where…who cares where. She returns her mouth to his, lining up her lips to his lips, her tongue to his tongue, and moves in unison with him, like nothing ever came between them. She explores his mouth languidly, flicks her tongue over his, and gently pulls at his lower lip, begging for a reaction, begging for a show of passion. James obliges. He grabs Lily by her thighs, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips, and heaves her slender body up. This feels so right, like she belongs on his body, clinging to him, holding to him, breathing with him. He brushes soft whispers of incoherence into her mouth, but she does not care, all she can focus on is the presence of James, the presence of James on her body, the presence of James on her lips, and the presence of James pushing into her lower abdomen. Still grasping her body, James walks forward to the trunk of the willow tree, and pushes her back against the rough bark, all the while layering hot kisses over her body, unbuttoning her shirt as he went down, lower and lower, savoring the taste of her soft skin. He missed this too, and he did not realize how much he missed it until now. It was not that Lily had ever been replaced in his heart, but just that no other woman has ever managed to bring him to this point. God, he needs her, he needs her so fucking much that it is ridiculous, and he cannot stand feeling the rough texture of their clothes between them. He hooks his fingers at the collar of her shirt, and jerked his hands outward, pulling the tatters of her shirt with it, and popping off the small buttons that restrains her luscious body. He hears her mouth emit a small gasp at the ripping noise of her shirt, and he quiets her with his lips, shushing her thoughts with the mindless circles his tongue traced on her lower lip. "Don't worry about it," he hushes into her mouth, as he gazes intently into her eyes, "We'll fix it later." She bites her lip, and glances up into his eyes. She always seems innocent to him, perhaps because he knew her when she was most innocent, and he was the very person who disrupted that line of purity. She is his doll, his prize, a golden angel he turned siren. God, he had forgotten what a bloody siren she was, with her red hair, still stringy from the rain, cascading down her pale shoulders. He could always bring it out of her—her smoldering personality, her fiery temper. Her body is slick from the sweat and raindrops, and the fire in her eyes tells gives him confidence that whatever he does will all be worth it. He is so un-bloody-hinged by that look in her eyes. He moves his hand from her face down the side of her neck, then traces her collarbone. He is teasing her, and she gave a frustrated grunt. She bites him hard on the lip, sending an electric shock through his body, and propelling his mind into action. Still supporting Lily against the tree, James reaches behind her to undo her bra strap. He notices the abrasiveness of the bark against her tender skin and picks her up to lay her down on the soft grass, never once removing his lips from her body, be it lips, neck or shoulder. He lays her gently on the grass, and removes her black soaked bra. His fingers trace gentle circles around her nipples, giving a tug and a gentle squeeze. He moves his mouth away from her face, and licks downward the passion and sweat of her body. He rests his lips on her breasts, breathing wet kisses on those rosy buds, and he lavishes his utmost attention on them until Lily is inches away from crying with pleasure. She places her hands on the sides of his head and gently guides him back to her lips, as he edges his fingers downward to unbutton her trousers. She unconsciously lets out a moan, as she knows exactly where he is going. They had done this a thousand times before, ages ago, but the familiarity feels new and passion unbridled. It does not have to be exotic, or even different; it will always be excellent because it was with James. James' senses are on overload, his fingers on autopilot. He is barely aware of what he is doing, but just that he must, or he will explode, explode from anticipation or pleasure, there is hardly a difference anymore. He pulls off Lily's trousers, and her panties along with it, in a brusque and sudden move, stripping her bare and naked, lying in the grass. James looks over her naked body, streamlined and curved at the right places, and he wonders how he could have ever been distracted from her. He dances his fingers up her legs and moves between them. The heat lying there is unbearable for Lily, and she needs him to satisfy her. She is dying for a release, and she wants James to give it to her. He strokes her gently and moves his fingers into her, feeling her yielding to him, but accepting all the same. She is wet, oh so wet, and he cannot be more turned on at this moment. He moves his fingers in slow, strokes, excruciatingly slow strokes, and he whispers unintelligible sounds into her ears. Whispers of passion, and of lust. She moans in synchrony to his movements, and they form together, two figures, giving themselves to each other. There is something primitive and beautiful about this. They are in tune with their carnal desires, and nothing mattered around them. They hear nothing but the beating of each other's heart, the pulse of their bodies together, their whispers and moans, knowing that each has an effect on the other. It is JamesandLily, no spaces, no separation. They are whole again, pieces matched for pieces. Complete. Lily continues to squirm under James' fingers, and she is dying an oh-so-pleasant death. She feels herself losing control, and she does not want that quite yet. She grasps at her last ounce of restraint, pulls mind together, and twists her body around. Lily wraps her legs around James and pins him beneath her; the feeling of him pressing into her center is enough to make her cry out loud. She intertwines her hands into his, lacing their fingers together, and she pins his hands to the ground. It was beautifully primal, the way she dominated his body, like a fiery nymph allotting punishment onto whoever trespassed on her domain. James was her domain now, and she had no intention of letting go. She slides her hands down his arms and then his body, following them with her mouth, lips and tongue, and she unbuttons his trousers as she goes. She has the incredible desire to please him, to mark him as hers by making him feel like no other person ever could. Lily releases James from his restraints, discarding his leather belt and trousers elsewhere, and she begins to play her game. They are both naked, and it is only a matter of time before they begin to complete what they have started. Lily wraps her slim fingers around his length and gently traces the veins there. It pulses under the pressure of her fingers. She encircles it again and again, and she moves her hand in a gentle rhythm, slowing down as James' moans escalate. It was a game they used to play, in the privacy of their bedroom canopies, and this time, Lily is determined to outlast James. She continues for a bit before moving up his body and straddling him. Oh, it's just the way he wants it, and he pushes his body upwards, dying for her, dying to be within her, but Lily doesn't quite wish to acquiesce just yet. She presses against him, again and again, but barring entrance, and enticing his wildest thoughts. She wears a wicked smile on her face, and he knows that smile so well. He groans because he knows he has lost to her, and he is so willing to admit it because he will always lose to Lily Evans, and that is just the way James functions. Lily continues to sway, and without disrupting her rhythm, she swirls her hips the right way, eliciting a reaction, an intense moan from James, before setting on to him fully. Oh god, it feels so good, so forbidden; it feels just like their first time, in his bed at two in the morning, careful of all the silence around them. It is taboo for them to do this, but they don't care because it feels so goddamn right, because they are so fucking compatible in life, love and sex, and it only takes all of this for Lily and James to realize that they belong together. They are engaged in a dance of their own world, two writhing shadows in the distance, moving in tune, pushing onto each other and trusting to let fall. They complete each other, and they are frozen in this moment of ecstasy. Time whooshes past them, giving them exception to the world as they perform this ritual, their ceremony of realization and renewal. James brushes her hair past her face, and looks directly into her eyes, dark with passion, and shining with hope. His lust is only secondary to what he feels for this ravishing woman sitting atop of him; he feels her warmth envelope his body, his soul, and he could not help but give release at this moment, just as she is rising to the same. Their voices reverberate through the forest, but are unheard by any other living being, because they are unearthly. They gave themselves to a spiritual release, as well as one from their physical beings, and it was at that moment that life, as Lily and James each knew it, became a single entity. A single, intangible, indescribable entity. Lily and James. 


End file.
